They were grand old days when the wicked Francois Henri was redesigning the Blue Pyrenees vineyard north-east of Ararat, which his employer, Remy Martin, had originally planted in the 'sixties to make premium brandy. The brandy business was taxed into oblivion in the early seventies. Out came the brandy grapes in the ensuing decade; in went the standard red varieties of the day.
09 October 2014
OLD STYLE SHIRAZ FOR THE BLOOD MOON
Blue Pyrenees
Shiraz 2012
They were grand old days when the wicked Francois Henri was redesigning the Blue Pyrenees vineyard north-east of Ararat, which his employer, Remy Martin, had originally planted in the 'sixties to make premium brandy. The brandy business was taxed into oblivion in the early seventies. Out came the brandy grapes in the ensuing decade; in went the standard red varieties of the day.
$24; 14.5% alcohol;
screw cap; 89+ points
They were grand old days when the wicked Francois Henri was redesigning the Blue Pyrenees vineyard north-east of Ararat, which his employer, Remy Martin, had originally planted in the 'sixties to make premium brandy. The brandy business was taxed into oblivion in the early seventies. Out came the brandy grapes in the ensuing decade; in went the standard red varieties of the day.
Colin Lanceley was called in to paint the vineyard beneath the full moon and
Francois had a handsome label designed which copied the packaging of Rothmans
International cigarettes, a deluxe brand of extra-long smokes for duty-free
airport stores. That label was ultra radical in its day, not because it was
influenced by the tobacco business, but because it was blue, then a definite no-no for wine.
We were tasting the components for his red blend, which was a
Bordeaux-style mix with a little Shiraz, when I convinced him the peppery,
feisty, young vine Shiraz was so good it should have its own label. A game and
adventurous soul, Francois called it Australis, as he hoped it would be exported
to France, to show the Rhone blokes a thing or two. Here, it was considered one
of the better early cool-climate Shiraz offerings of its day.
Remy hit the international financial shellgrit
eventually, and retired hurt. After one thing and another, a group of investors
bought the business in 2002. They're still there.
Keeping in mind my
sentimental connection, permit me to suggest this is a warmer, softer red than
its zappy ancestor. Now those vines are hitting some proper age, it's rich
without being strong, and more mellow and soulful. It's not at all gloopy or
jammy. It has a dark damp earth and tomato bush aroma, in with its old leather
upholstery and polished walnut wood: it smells like an old Jaguar with a warm
engine, an oil leak and potted tomato plants on the back seat. Maybe some
mushrooms, too. It calmly settles in on the mouth without any challenge. Settle
into it, and it's a nostalgic sort of a ride. The tannins are fine and dry and
drawn out, and seem well suited to tea-smoked duck or roast quail with pine
nuts, reduced spinach on the side. It's no grand cru, but a good drink for the
money, and stylistically, a bit of a rarity.
While Francois' original blue-and-gilt Rothmans label is gone, it's good to see Colin's full moon survives, especially beneath a Blood Moon eclipse like tonight's.
Longhop Mount
Lofty Ranges Shiraz 2013
$18; 14% alcohol;
screw cap; 89++ points
This baby's a year younger, so it has a touch more bright
berry fruit, but it's pretty much after the 'Blueper' in style. Made from
low-yielding older vines in the high Barossa and the hills to the south and
west, it has similar hints of tomato garden and mushroom with a little white
pepper piquancy in place of the old Jag which has yet to arrive. Give it a
couple of years. Maybe it's a tad yeasty, as in doughy bread. That's a fault in
the nostrils of the show ring technocrats, but it's fine by me. The palate is
sinuous rather than plush, still comforting, and a little cheeky. Instead of
Colin Lanceley, it has a fine George Grainger Aldridge portrait of an old vine
on the front, setting the tone just right. As it slowly draws out to its dry
tannin taper, it makes me dribble for the sort of delicious blue steak the
kitchen at the Lion Hotel does just perfectly: no bucking, no moo, no horns, a
little crusty and caramelised on the outside, and warm all the way through. To
push the blue mood, both these wines are perfect accompaniments to the Miles
Davis masterpiece, Kinda Blue. They also make me dangerously nostalgic for a
slow draw on one of those long-gone Rothmans. Mmmmm.
Blood Moon eclipse 09.10.14 from International Space Station
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2 comments:
" it smells like an old Jaguar with a warm engine, an oil leak and potted tomato plants on the back seat." Gold - V8 or V12?
1967 Mk II 3.8 six
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